


The Quiet Peace

by Oldfrailpizza



Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, First Person Point of View, Gen, Grim Reaper/Death, Peaceful, can be interpreted as third person POV, first person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 14:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20083474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oldfrailpizza/pseuds/Oldfrailpizza
Summary: Original characters, a confusing yet tranquil situation. When life ends, who do we meet?





	The Quiet Peace

“It’s time to go”  
She’s a familiar face but an unknown one all the same. There’s no fear, no worries, no call for hesitation. She turns and walks, expecting the accompanying sounds of foot falls and pauses when none are forth coming. Turning just enough to get a side profile of her face, she gives a look inciting a playful challenge with an uplift of her brow and an almost smirk on her lips. When still no forthcoming steps follow, she fully turns and dutifully begins to approach with her hand out stretched and a small but genuinely trustful smile dances across her face. It seems a bit peculiar, her face doesn’t seemingly settle into one simple picture. She’s almost clear and yet her image does not quiet settle into crips clarity, rather she appears as though a collection of faces gently merged into one cohesive being. Her height doesn’t really changed and nothing seems wrong about her gait, but she’s wearing an all black ensemble and even has gloves on too despite the soft heat surrounding them. With a throat too dry to speak, no questions are asked and consequently no answers are given. Taking her hand must mean something. A simple look around revealed a dock, but one like a painting come to life. It seems not only her face was- with a lack of better words- out of focus, but also the grounds beneath her feet and all the land and sea in the surrounding.  
“It’s time.”  
It must have been minutes since she’s last spoken, but no trace of ire is evident in her voice. She steps the last few inches of the chasm of space that was built and slightly shakes her hand out to entice a grip. Taking a deep breath and reaching out, hands clasp gently and quietly.  
“Let’s get going now.”  
They walk together and further into the painting and stretches of brush strokes.

**Author's Note:**

> If there needs fixing or better wording please don’t hesitate to tell me. Any suggestions would be appreciated.


End file.
